


All You Need Is Love

by Azar443



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:39:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar443/pseuds/Azar443
Summary: Newt's second visit back to New York brings some pleasant surprises.





	All You Need Is Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



_He’s been found_.

For all of Tina’s somewhat scattered ramblings in the letter Newt receives, the news that the real Percival Graves has been found is conveyed in a single, simple sentence. The unruffled façade Tina wishes to exude however, is broken by the shaky handwriting the sentence is written in, a stark contrast to the American witch’s normally neat cursive; Newt only knows this when he catches sight of the pages within Tina’s little notebook that she dutifully jots everything down in, the first time he’s in New York. He’s not as socially oblivious as people think he is, and the lack of elaboration regarding the who, what, where, when and how of Percival Graves’ rescue speaks volumes to the magizoologist. Pickett, who’s been dozing peacefully in Newt’s warm pocket, peeks at the letter and chatters animatedly to his human, who nods seriously in return. Decision made, Newt Scamander folds the letter haphazardly and stuffs it in one of his many pockets, and promptly makes arrangements to travel to New York once more. He makes sure the latches are properly closed this time, though.

* * *

 

It’s dark in his room; his sun-deprived eyes can’t take bright lights without giving him a migraine just yet. He’s alone, because what person would give up living their own lives to look after an invalid? Not that he’d stoop to begging. He knows his Aurors are all busy with work, and he knows that guilt is the main motivator behind their tentative visits and quiet words of “are you ok?” But it gets tiring, being treated like he’ll break at the slightest touch, and the shifting eyes of people who didn’t notice that he was being impersonated. Sure, Percival is bitter, but he’s always been very good at compartmentalising. It’s how no one noticed, after all. He rises from the bed he’s been lying in, and he’s greeted with a quiet yip and a wet nose shoved gently into his palm. There’s a smile on his face, so slight it could have been a trick of the light, and his hand finds purchase on Dante’s collar. At least his pooch hasn’t abandoned him.

The proud Greyhound is patient as he waits for his human to stand, and slowly, they make their way to the kitchen, where Percival pours some food into Dante’s bowl and magically reheats one of the many casseroles Queenie has left for him. The blonde, surprisingly, has been a constant presence in his life after he’s pulled from the hell-hole Grindelwald carelessly threw him in, and Percival appreciates her kindness, even if he only grunts whenever she trills on about how everyone misses him, and how he should eat up so he can recover his strength. His home seems a little colder when she leaves, and the only source of warmth is from the food that settles comfortably in his belly, and Percival yearns for human contact then more than ever.

* * *

 

Tina’s reunion with Newt is a strange one. It has none of the familiarity and camaraderie established from Newt’s first visit, and they stand awkwardly with half smiles and mumbled words, until they settle on a firm handshake before leaving for the Goldsteins’ apartment, where Newt finds himself staying once more, sans the cheery Jacob Kowalski. Newt reminds himself to make a stop by the man’s bakery; Queenie tells him, in the dreamiest of voices, of how the talented Jacob has turned Newt’s creatures into edible pastries. The trio stay till the stars have faded back into the lightening sky, and Newt learns of a man whose proud countenance has been diminished to haunted, unsettling stares and quiet whispers, and the Aurors wear a heavy veil of guilt every single day they look to the empty office that once belonged to Percival Graves. Queenie is furious; Picquery’s thoughts have been loud with the notion of replacing Percival, of everyone else’s desire to throw him to the wolves and sit comfortably in their high chairs, surrounded by their arrogantly impeccable moral codes. Tina’s only reaction to take a shudder of a breath that reminds Newt of the rattling of Dementors’, and the effects are not dissimilar as any joy at the friends’ reunion seep out like crawling vines of despair. As their untouched hot cocoas turn cold, Tina rises from the table, and the creaking sound of chairs scrapping the wooden floor breaks any semblance of peace that has settled over them.

* * *

 

Percival hears Dante’s growl before three dainty knocks sounded throughout his home. The first to enter is Queenie, from whom Dante eagerly seeks treats (she sneaks him some biscuits and Percival thinks she’s spoilt his dog rotten), followed by her dark eyed sister who is wringing her hands nervously, and a tall gentleman who walks with a strange, loping gait and who sports a dusty blue coat. His hair is a ginger mop of mess, and there’s a dusting of freckles on his pale cheeks, and even as Percival’s training kicks in and tells him other details about the stranger before him, Percival notices only that the gentleman’s eyes are a blue that draws him in, like the hearth fire of home, and all at once, his lonely apartment doesn’t seem so devoid of life anymore.

He rises, awkwardly stumbling before righting himself with Dante’s help, and pretends not to notice the way Tina nearly lunges forward to help him, or the way Queenie holds her back because she knows Percival would like to keep his dignity. The grasp of the stranger’s hand on his is warm and enveloping, and there’s a faint ringing sound in Percival’s ears when Newt Scamander lets go, and he finds himself returning Newt’s lopsided grin with a half-smile of his own, and the feeling of his lips twitching upwards is a foreign sensation, but he thinks that maybe he could get used to smiling again soon. The former director ignores the little giggle coming from Queenie’s direction, and ever the good host, offers his guests some tea. The reason for Queenie’s glee becomes somewhat apparent as she makes hasty excuses for herself and Tina, who is as confused as Newt as to why they must suddenly depart from Percival’s apartment, without Newt. The sisters leave, bickering quietly about laundry and chores –Tina insists that they’ve finished all the chore for the day, while Queenie frantically shushes her straight-as-an-arrow sister, and the apartment suddenly becomes all too quiet as Newt and Percival are left staring at one another. Tea, Percival remembers, and limps slowly into the kitchen, and Newt follows the soft footsteps of his host and the soft clicking of Dante’s toenails on the wooden floor. New York really _is_ fascinating.

Their conversation is one plagued with frequent long pauses and stuttered words from a man who hasn’t spoken in months, and a man who’s more comfortable communicating non-verbally with his creatures. It is a painfully awkward scenario, as Percival tries to get to know his guest more, while Newt tries to recall social cues and ask questions that aren’t too invasive to the newly freed man. The ice breaks however, when Dante catches Pickett’s scent from Newt’s pocket, and the little Bowtruckle surprises his human by boldly climbing onto the dog’s nose and sitting there. Both creatures take in the other seriously, until Dante lets out a little whine and gently settles down by Percival’s feet, mindful of the leafy little thing on its snout. Newt, desperate to fill the void of silence, begins talking about his creatures, and as usual, loses himself in the much-loved topic. Unlike other people, who often interrupt him to change the subject or simply don’t pay attention, Percival appears interested, leaning forward and listening intently to Newt’s many tales and his aspirations of making the wizarding world a safer place for all magical creatures. The dark haired man notes Newt’s obvious passion for his creatures, in the way a light flush appears on his face, how Newt’s bright green eyes light up with a spark that warms the kitchen, and he is mesmerised by Newt’s hands, waving animatedly in the air as he weaves story after story after story of the most exotic of creatures Percival has never heard before. They spend hours like that, Newt regaling Percival with tales of dragons from China, of the hippogriffs Newt’s mother breeds, of Frank the Thunderbird who has hopefully found his way to Arizona, of dangerous little buggers like the Kappa and Red Caps, of the genteel nature of Mooncalves (Newt promises to let Percival visit his suitcase as soon as possible) and Percival wonders if this is how Scheherazade coaxes the King into love, by wondrous tales told in a voice far alluring than the sirens.

* * *

 

Newt returns the next day, and the next, and the next, and when Percival’s legs have strengthened enough to go down the stairs of the enchanted suitcase and back up, he is introduced to Newt’s creatures. His first introduction is the soft feeling of a Mooncalf’s downy head against his hand, and instinctively, he rubs the little one’s head much as he would Dante’s, and is delighted to have elicited an ecstatic squeal from the Mooncalf, who immediately calls out to the rest of the nearby herd, who have been watching warily at this stranger. Newt is about to call out a warning before the herd descends on the surprised Percival, knocking him to the ground as they nicker and whinny happily all over him, begging for pets and rubs and snuggles. There’s a joyous laugh in the air, and Newt has a large grin on his face to realise that it’s Percival’s laugh, and to know that the man is still capable of happiness drives Newt to _want_ to make him smile and laugh all the more.

Dougal comes next, ambling cautiously over. His nostrils flare as he takes in Percival’s scent, and the man reaches out a hand to the Demiguise. Percival is surprised at the warmth of Dougal’s hand in his, and he’s amused to find himself tugged along to meet the other creatures. He turns back to Newt, to see if he’s following them when he sees the wistful look on Newt’s face. Framed in the artificial sunlight in the enclosure, with his red hair wild and fluttering in the wind, Percival thinks Newt could pass off as an angel, and the words are on the cusp of slipping from him when he hears Dougal chattering angrily at something that looks like a platypus, and is…stuffing his pocket watch into its pouch. Disbelieving, Percival searches his pockets and come up empty, while Newt groans exasperatedly and grabs the infernal Niffler by its webbed paws. The creature is turned upside down as Newt tickles its belly, and Percival is baffled to see a mountain pile of shiny objects, including his pocket watch, fall from the seemingly tiny pouch of the creature, whom Newt is sternly reprimanding. The Niffler has its little arms crossed, and looks exceedingly displeased with a pout on its beak (Percival isn’t sure how that is possible), but is placated when Newt allows it to keep the rest of the treasure, sans Percival’s watch. The latter feels hysterical laughter bubble in his throat at the sight of the creature waddling back to its nest, all the while stuffing its treasure back into its pouch. Newt only offers him a shrug, as if saying _what can you do_?

Newt introduces the rest of the creatures to Percival, including the ferocious Nundu that Newt has named Sally. Percival thinks Newt has a penchant for giving his creatures charming names, and tells him so, and Percival’s gratified when the younger man blushes at the unconventional compliment. The blush intensifies when Percival tells him that he looks rather fetching when he blushes. They fall silent, like children confessing their love on a school playground, and when Percival takes the tentative hand Newt offers to him, he’s rewarded with the most brilliant of smiles that draws yet another smile from him. There’s a voice in Percival’s head that sounds suspiciously like Queenie, who’s giggling and telling him to give Newt a kiss. The old Percival would have brushed the notion off and not let a word of affection slip through his lips. The old Percival, he decides, is a grumpy man far too old for his age, and that it’s time for change. The new Percival would give Newt Scamander the most delicious of kisses, with the promises of more. And so, Newt finds his face enclosed in the calloused palms of Percival Graves, with a heated kiss that sears straight into his soul planted on his lips. There are no fireworks or the instant knowledge that Percival is his soul mate, nor does his world burst into colour and song, as the stories go. But there is a quiet contentment within him that tells him this is right, that this is _home_ , and that’s okay, because neither Newt nor Percival need a love that is intense and explosive and everything they’re not.

The sun sets in the enclosure, and both men walk slowly back to the stairway leading out, back into the real world. And for the first time since his rescue, Percival doesn’t mind the thought of another day of pitying glances or whispers of his replacement, or the fact that his leg hurts when it’s cold, and there are grey strands in his hair where there were none before. The warmth that is Newt’s hand in his can see him through tomorrow, and when Newt tells him, in a low voice that sends a delicious thrill through his tired body, that he’ll visit Percival again the next day, Percival thinks he’ll be all right.

 


End file.
